She explained how quilts were used to provide clues to slaves trying to escape to the North. A log cabin block with a black center, for instance, indicated a safe house where they could stay. The flying geese were used to tell them which direction to head.

 
Ruth made these quilts herself. Historians believe many peace-loving Quaker women made quilts to help the slaves. One Pennsylvania woman helped about 3,000 to freedom.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Before the program started, I chatted with the man sitting next to me. He was Clarence Miller, who just happened to make this neon sign 55 years ago.

 
 
 
The sign was an icon at a local motel on the Belt Highway. When the motel was torn down, the museum acquired the sign. Mr. Miller still works at the sign company, noting that he is the only glassblower in town.

In the first line of the first song, Joyce Martin sings, “If we could clear the stage, if we could kill the lights, I’d walk down these steps and stand right by your side.”

I know it’s more than a song lyric, it’s the truth.

I spent my birthday, Oct. 26, 2010, at the Missouri Baptist Convention, covering news stories for the Pathway. My birthday often falls during the convention and my dear friend Becky had come prepared with presents, a cake and even party hats. It was a party, but also a difficult day, for this was a birthday that I accepted some dreams wouldn’t be coming true.

The Martins were the special musical guests of the convention and performed during the afternoon and evening sessions.  I sat on the front row at the media table and felt like every song they sang and the testimonies they shared ministered right to me.  After the session was over, I found Becky hanging out at The Martins booth. But when I walked up, they treated me like I was the celebrity. The two sisters and brother gathered around and sang “Happy Birthday.” Becky bought me a CD  that  The Martins thought would be perfect for me. It’s called Dream Big.

New Day is their first new album in six years. And, wow, does it pack a punch. The first six songs are absolute solid gold. Love Enough, as I mentioned, kicks of the CD with a powerful tune. The title track enough is worth the price of CD and will help you get through the toughest days. The song Somebody Like Me gets bonus points for the line “Ain’t that just like a bunch of Baptists.”

The Martins are considered Southern Gospel, but their sound on this album is very fresh; probably more like contemporary country than anything else. The harmonies are incredible and each member of the trio takes a turn singing lead. The music is infused with such truth and conviction, you grasp that not only do they believe every word they’re singing, they also live it.

Tears streamed down my face the first time I heard Unredeemed. But I think my favorite is Tell Them That I Love Them, a touching song about “an old-time preacher in a small-town church.” One song blends their contemporary sound with the traditional theme of trains. It’s the only song on the album that doesn’t quite work. But trust me, the rest of the album works beautifully.

Click here to purchase New Day and show up at the Missouri Theater on Feb. 17 to see The Martins in person.

In the row behind me, young Emily started getting restless. It’s hard to sit through a church service when you’re just 2 years old, especially on Christmas Eve. She wiggled down out of the seat and peered around the chair to watch the stage, intrigued by the scene.

A deacon read the passage that described Jesus being laid in a manger, the angels who announced his birth and the shepherds who came to worship him. But Emily was not listening. Her dad put her on his lap and shushed her, which only made her squirm and fuss more. Exasperated, she told her dad very plainly about the situation.

“There’s a baby up there and I want to see it.”

 

Her innocent voice cut through all the extra layers surrounding Christmas and went straight to the point. Why pay attention to anything else when there is a baby?

 

Emily’s advice has helped me to keep my focus this holiday season. All the presents and cookies and lights are nice, but is my greatest desire to see the Savior and to be near Him? This Christmas, I pray that you can catch a glimpse of the baby and see Jesus for all he is.

Mark Twain, Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer having a conversation

The second time I read the book was in high school, where any symbolism I may have missed the first time was analyzed in meticulous detail. The third time through was in a book club with co-workers. While they debated the themes of racism, gender identity and political motives as we dined in St. Joseph, I peered out at the Missouri River and wondered if it would be possible to construct a seaworthy raft of logs.
Last summer, a friend and I decided we would float away from the stress of life and headed east on Highway 36 to the home of Mark Twain.
Hannibal, Mo., is a charming old town, built right on the banks of the Mighty Mississippi. For the affordable price of $9, we got to tour Twain’s boyhood home, an interpretive center, Judge Clemons’ courtroom, a Norman Rockwell art gallery and an interactive museum.
Walking out of the first building, a sign pointed up the hill to Huck Finn’s house. But Huck Finn isn’t real, he’s a fictional character; how could he have a house?
The sign announced that for as long as anyone could remember, the little wood home on a stone foundation had been identified as Huck Finn’s. It further explained that Twain had modeled the redheaded character after a childhood friend who was poor, unsupervised, routinely in trouble and forbidden for the other boys to play with. This made him the most popular boy in town.

I'm on Huck Finn's raft!

Susan Mires lives in St. Joseph, Mo., a city rich in history. She was a reporter and editor at the St. Joseph News-Press for 10 years and now works in emergency management and as a freelance writer. She holds a degree in agriculture with a journalism minor from Northwest Missouri State University. Read more of her Reflections on the River columns at www.susanmires.com.

I have been engrossed reading The Hunger Games Trilogy thrilled to find it really is as good as promised. The main character is a teenage girl who sneaks under a barbed fence to hunt to feed her family. I’m in the middle of Book 2 – Catching Fire where a rebellion is building because the people are starving. By contrast, my biggest challenge in preparing the Thanksgiving meal was fighting off the hordes at the grocery store.

The last few months, I have been keeping a gratitude journal, inspired by the book One Thousand Gifts and my Connection Group Bible Study leader.

Author Ann Voskamp writes a lyrical and challenging book, urging us to combine the divine and the everyday and to discover that thanksgiving always precedes blessing. The challenge is to keep a list of 1,000 things for which you’re thankful.

My list started with simple things:

Friends who pray for me
Texting
Morning coffee
Health care
 

I realized most of these things made me sound like a spoiled brat. Am I blessed because I am an American and can afford luxuries? I started to look deeper and realize that the best gifts are really moments.
 
 
 
 
Remembering the words to an old hymn
Talking about the corn crop with my dad
A friend sharing a Scripture during class
Hugs from a three-year-old

My list is only up to #263 and can’t believe how many blessings I have discovered. The most amazing thing is that gratitude stops time.

I have found the secret to defy time.

By stopping to savor this moment, a chilly November afternoon when the bare trees stand silhouetted against the gray sky and squawking geese fly over in a vee shape, I give thanks that I am alive to experience it. I’m not thinking about moments I’ve missed in the past or what might happen in the future. I may never get married, I may never have children, I may never publish a book, but by the grace of God I get to see these trees and hear these birds and feel His touch upon me. Stop the clock and build an altar right here in my heart.

The Lord used this book to change my life and I highly recommend it. It does move slow, particularly at the beginning. It took me about three months to read. Even at that, I skimmed the last chapter. There’s a brand new free app to download to your phone. I’m looking forward to using that.

I’m counting my gifts every day.

We started with an authentic Civil War era meal made by club members.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Jackie made “interpretive” tags for each dish. Eileen Lockwood’s raisin custard was delicious. Jackie made the wild plum jelly. My mom made the similar jelly from wild plums growing on our farm. Jackie even gave me some to take home! My contribution was the cornbread.
 

Alice McVicker brought us some delicacies, which to soldiers included nuts, apples and sweet pickles.

Author Joe Houts shared about his great-great-grandfather who was a surgeon in the Civil War for the South. Joe is pictured here in the Civil War Medicine display at the museum which depicts an amputation, the most common surgery performed during the war.
 
Joe also told us about his writing journey, which is very interesting because he did not learn to read until the fifth grade. He was inspired to write historical accounts because his grandmother had saved all the family papers, including medical logs from the war.
 
The St. Joseph Museum is located on Frederick Avenue and admission is just $5. It is adjacent to the Glore Psychiatric Museum and both are fascinating visits. As much fun as we had during our Civil War evening, we all agreed we didn’t want to get accidentally locked inside the museum for the night!

Pumpkin Fest and cotton candy come to the Pony Express stables

Pumpkin Fest, one of the museum’s main fund raisers, is largely a children’s event and I had never been before. I mentioned to some friends it would be fun to go, so the three of us decided to check it out. From the inside out so to speak.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
It was a beautiful fall evening and we ran into lots of friends. We sort of stalked the Kettle Korn people. It really was that good.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
My friend Lori convinced me to get on the “Mind Blender.” We were definitely the oldest people on the ride, but we also had the most fun. Our friend Pamela caught the moment of us screaming.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The highlight of the evening is the lighting of Pumpkin Mountain. Hundreds of artfully carved pumpkins were stacked in front of the museum and the lights turned on all at once. The glow of the Pony Express logo is just perfect.

Pumpkin Mountain at the Pony Express